


Birthday

by Southbroom



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 05:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18986104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Southbroom/pseuds/Southbroom
Summary: What if our favourite detectives shared a birthday? Set some time in Season 1





	Birthday

Hardy woke with his usual tingle of in his fingers. He straightened up, gulped in as much oxygen as his lungs could allow, and reached for his pills.

 _Bloody hell_ , he thought once he sat upright in bed, trying not to cough out his lungs. Couldn’t the universe spare him one morning without a near heart attack? He crawled out of bed, and made it half way to the kitchen before collapsing in the hallway. He clenched his hand to his chest, hissing in pain, trying to steady his breathing.

One day, just one fucking day… his birthday. But then again, why would his birthday be so different from any other Thursday in the year? It was just a made up anniversary of the day he came screaming into the world.

He remembered how in Sandbrook, Tess had always made a big deal of his birthday. She told the whole station in the morning and bought a whole chocolate cake for everyone to share. He once appreciated the gesture, seeing it was a small symbol of the love he and his wife shared, even if there was no love from his co-workers. No, the station easily consumed the cake and muttered thanks in his direction. The creation of false intimacy.

And then a few years passed and Tess started forgetting about his birthday all together.

_Tea, toast, shower, teeth, hair…. Razor? Nah, that can wait another day._

He strolled out the Trader’s Hotel, thankful that Becca Fisher didn’t make her usual show of asking him how he slept and if his room had any problems. At the end of High Street Paul Coats greeted him. Hardy found a strange pleasue in knowing that no one in Broadchurch could pester him with birthday wishes. In fact, the only person who could possibly know was Jenkinson. That is, if she even bothered to check his files.

No attention, that is exactly what he needs. He needed to find Daniel Latimer’s killer and do his penance in this stupid little town. With a second cuppa in hand he tackled the paperwork on his desk. When his whole team eventually arrived, he briefed them, and Miller followed him into his office.

She dumped some more papers on his desk, and then settled in a chair opposite him.

“Good morning.” She said, a wide smirk plastered on her face.

 _Bollocks_ , _she knew_. She defiantly knew. Of course Miller would have dug into his history. _Had she asked Jenkinson_ , he wondered. What was it with this town? Everyone knew everything about you? _Privacy was extinct!_

“Can I help you?”

“Tonight we’re all going to the pub.”

“Okay.”

“You’re invited.”

“Okay. Okay thanks, Miller.”

She frowned suddenly, “Are you not going to ask _why_ we are going to the pub?”

His eyes bored into hers.

“It’s my birthday today.” She said brightly.

“What?” He couldn’t have heard that properly.

“I said it’s my birthday.” She scoffed. He continued looking surprised, “You know, that thing that comes once a year, adding one to your age.”

“I know what a bloody birthday is, Miller. Besides...”

He hesitated. Did he really want to let her know? Then he would be forced into going to the pub and socialising with the idiots from work.

“Besides… what?”

“We should be focusing on the investigation.” He said sullenly.

“I just thought it would be a nice break. And then everyone can be reenergized tomorrow morning when the SOCO brings the boat’s DNA results back.”

“Oh, yes, when everyone is hungover and tired of seeing each other’s faces.”

She stood up, her curls bouncing as she did so, and looking down at him as if he was the scum of the earth.

“Thank you for that, _Sir_. Hope to see you there tonight.”

x

With Miller avoiding him the rest of the day, Hardy made real progress. He eliminated the pile of paperwork and watched a few hours of CCTV from the harbour, bearing no fruit. In the lunch hour, when the office was quieter, Hardy went to the murder board and examined what they already knew.

He spotted a uniform officer and one of his teammates, walking past. The woman, Amanda, was whispering in a low voice. When he looked at them they immediately stopped and scurried away.

He rolled his eyes. Office gossip. Probably about the new, grumpy DI. Or better yet, Miller was sharing stories about his rudeness that morning.

Hardy retreated back to his office.

x

In the late afternoon, Jenkinson came to visit him. After a good few minutes of talking about Mark Latimer she surprised him with an unusual comment.

“There been a – sensitive complaint made to me.”

Hardy sighed. His DS really hated him that much that she was complaining to the boss.

“I assume you know what I am talking about.”

“Ma’am, I assure you, I was just being professional-“

“I am sure you were, Alec.” He winced, “That is the problem. These small-town officers, they do not appreciate cool professionalism as you are used to in the city.”

Hardy did not respond.

“I advise that you go to Ellie’s thing tonight, as a peace offering.” Jenkinson said, “I will be going as well.”

x

PC Bob Daniels was sitting closest to him, nearing knocking Hardy off of his chair every time that his head rolled back in laughter. Bob was engrossed in a long conversation with Jenkinson about his son. Jenkinson in return shared some stories of her newly born granddaughter. It was all so light-hearted for Hardy.

Children. Hardy felt nauseous even thinking about Daisy. He unlocked his mobile and checked the last few messages he had sent to her. He typed another one, just for the sake of it. It was not like his daughtered ever messaged him back.

After ten minutes of looking at his phone, Hardy could not use in as a distraction anymore. He eyeballed the crowd of coppers, suddenly hit with a wave of anger at himself.

Was it really worth it being in this small town? With these idiots? All of this wasted time protecting Claire? Getting some sort of justice for Pippa and Lisa? Was it worth sacrificing himself for these women? Sacrificing his time away from Dais?

“Can I buy you a drink, Sir?”

It was Miller. She was looking at him with concern. He felt irritated. Couldn’t she go back to the rest of them? He didn’t like being treated like a charity case.

“No thanks.”

“You don’t drink?”

“Not really.”

“On a path to abstinence, are you?”

“What?”

“I never see you drink. I never see you eat. When was the last time you had sex? Or are you celibate?”

Hardy nearly coughed. The alcohol must be going straight into Miller’s head. He gave her a beady stare.

If she was losing patience with him, she was doing a good job not showing it. Miller sat down in the bar chair next to him, facing Amada, Peter and DS Willis playing pool just across the room. And she just sat there, nursing her cider, not speaking to him.

What was she doing? Was she also plagued with thoughts of murdered children and water currents? He doubted it. She was smiling slightly, eyes closed and hands clasped at her glass on her lap.

“Today’s my birthday as well.” He said suddenly, not knowing why.

“What?” she said, excited. He regretted it immediately.

“August second.”

“No shit!” She exclaimed, smiling. “We share a birthday? Oh this is so cool. We should celebrate!”

Yes, definite mistake telling her, Hardy thought. Now he was going to be forced into rounds of shots and loud chanting and-

“How old are you today?”

“ _What?”_

Miller looked like she could hit him with a plank.

“I am forty-two.” he said, after a moment. Suspicion rose in his chest.

“I’m thirty-nine today.” Miller said. She turned around in the chair, placing her hands onto the counter.

“Hey Nel! Can you get Mr Hardy here a glass of water?”

“You got it, Ellie.”

“You know that Nellie and I were in the same year at school. From when we were four-“ Miller proceeded to tell him some high school story about “Nellie and Ellie”. He didn’t mind that much. In a way it was nice being part of the conversation, even if he didn’t really say anything. Miller was facing him and making eye contact and – it was strange in a way, seeing her so relaxed. Seeing her not livid with him.

Once his water came, Miller gestured for him to pick up his drink. The public toast he was waiting for never came. Instead, she softly clinked their glasses together.

“Happy Birthday, Sir.”

He managed to nod his head, which he hoped Miller understood was as close as he could get to a thank you.

She left soon after that, but Hardy ended up finished the whole glass of water, and while walking back to the Traders, his phone beeped.

_happy b-day dad_

He fumbled over the keys, his fingers typing faster than his head, sending before he had the chance to check over spelling.

_Love you, Darling._


End file.
